


Wir Fliegen

by The_Exile



Category: Star Ocean: The Last Hope, Star Ocean: The Second Story | Second Evolution, Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
Genre: Alternate Universe, Deus Ex Machina, Evil Corporations, Hacking, M/M, Prophetic Visions, Spicule, Timeline Shenanigans, Undressing, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6407257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Eternal Sphere Corporation attempt to issue the Ten Wise Men with a Cease and Desist Order, the already tense situation between two authorities capable of deleting the Universe is made worse by certain past events between Lucifer and Luther. The Universe's only hope lies with, unfortunately, Haniel and Welch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Gabriel Is Threatened By Lawyers

**Author's Note:**

> a few notes about the timeline:
> 
> This is meant to be Second Evolution, for no other reason than I like making all the weird things happen to Welch, but Ten Wise Men names use the formula Indalecio Gabriel, Cyril Lucifer etc.  
> It would have happened mid-game, after the party arrived on Energy Nede but before they assaulted Phynal.  
> Welch is not on the party at the time.  
> S03-related stuff is pre-canon by quite a while. No idea about SO4.  
> This is previous fic canon and references 'Beyond the One' and 'Valkyrie Profile: Welch'. I would probably place this after 'Valkyrie Profile: Welch'. There has been at least one timeline reset since then.

"Mr. Indalecio Gabriel. We are here representing the Eternal Sphere Corporation. We'll skip the preliminaries. You are the absolute apex of the most advanced civilisation currently in existence. Certain activities you were recently discovered to have been conducting are in breach of our Terms and Conditions, Section 10, Clause 5b, 'Illegally Modifying the Universe'. You will be given twenty four hours to halt all research, distribution and production, recall and destroy all products in circulation, delete your blueprints and sign a cease and desist order, or we will delete yourself, your entire operation and all sectors of space found to contain any traces of your activities."

"You know who I am, hm?" a thin, twisted smile spread over Gabriel's already pale, sad-eyed face. His slender cheekbones were framed by wavy red shoulder-length hair.

He regarded the three intruders who had suddenly appeared in his Command Centre on the top floor of Phynal Tower, apparently warping straight through the energy shields as though they weren't there, tripping no alarms and alerting nobody on the lower floors. He had reacted quickly, slamming his hand down on the security button, but their leader had simply lifted a finger and caused the space around the button to somehow phase out of existence. The amount of symbological energy involved in that seemingly effortless gesture had shorted out one of the meters he had running in the background, monitoring his most recent attempt to correctly align the Sphere of Annihilation. There had been a tiny amount of success during this run. He wondered if that fact and the sudden appearance of these eerie-looking, immensely powerful beings who spoke like lawyers, were in any way related. He knew people were coming for him. He had been presented with video footage of his underlings on the floors below disposing of them in a selection of cruel and unusual ways. He hadn't expected anything like this. He supposed their Godlike power and lawyerish ways should intimidate him a little more, except that they were being remarkably stupid.

"Yes, Mr. Indalecio, we have known you since you were still known as Professor Gabriel Lantis," said the leader, an ageless blonde woman with three pairs of avian wings, dressed in an archaic helmet and armoured black robes. She reminded Gabriel of a classical depiction of an angel of Tria, the kind he saw on large, pretentious paintings displayed in Princebridge art gallery. The two beings who hovered at either side of him, their looming forms more sinister in appearance than their superior, shadowy and faceless with bright points of light for eyes and decaying wings. He guessed that these were meant to be the heavies of the operation, an unvoiced but blatant threat, such as if he were to be so crude as to walk into a room accompanied by Michael. 

Still, the use of that name, the human whose uploaded memories his personality was based upon, caused him to raise one eyebrow. Almost reflexively, he replied, "I am not he."

"You may choose to claim so, it is of no concern to us. But we know you possess his memories. You must remember the day that we presented ourselves at one of your conferences. It was a day that shook the entire Nedian civilisation. Arrangements were made. Those arrangements were never reneged by the Nedian Government but they were broken repeatedly by the splinter organisation known as the Ten Sages. As this organisation was clearly criminal, we decided to overlook the transgression and even volunteer technology designed specifically to assist in containing this mutual enemy. On the condition that they would actually carry out the interception, containment and preferably deletion. It seems they performed only a shoddy and ultimately failed attempt." 

“And so you came to finish the job?”

“To negotiate with what is now the superior power.”

“Your threats do not sound like negotiation to me,” said Gabriel, resting his elbow lazily on his chin as he lounged on his desk, tapping his pen in irritation, “So far, you have admitted to plotting my destruction, then threatened to delete what amounts to the entire Universe. My response is… this is a sight I would like to see. Please feel free to demonstrate your ability to carry out your threat, by all means. It seems we have a common goal. Maybe we can learn from each other, possibly even put aside our differences. After all, the Nede we seem to be arguing over has been gone for four billion years, no longer worthy of remembering.”

The angelic being paused mid-expression, like a digital image suffering buffering problems. Gabriel added, “By the way, I can also clearly see that you are some sort of puppet controlled by a master. In future, I would appreciate being contacted by an actual person.”

“No, Mr. Gabriel, you really would not want that,” replied the emissary, its voice clear and bright in a way that was almost a child’s voice, but with no innocence except maybe that of a brainwashed cultist, “And you would not want the Eternal Sphere to demonstrate what we can do. You see, the deletion I am talking about is not like your plan to destroy everything from the inside, using that primitively constructed hacking tool of yours. We will delete you while standing from the outside, with as much effort and emotion as we would any other faulty computer program. Then we might replace you with a working version of yourself, or we might just give up and remove any record of your existence.”

“I find myself unwilling to believe that your existence is completely removed from the Universe,” replied Gabriel, “And, while I do not appreciate being called faulty, I am not moved by your pointing out that I am a computer program. Either you have a similar plan to me and you are completely delusional in thinking that you would survive, or you are simply threatening me personally with deletion. As I cannot perform my function if I am deleted, and I do not trust you to be sane enough to come up with a working plan of your own, I will have to defend myself, fascinated as I am by your plan to outdo me.”

“If co-operation is not your wish, then so be it,” the emissary sounded sad. He snapped his fingers and the black-wreathed beings began to shift forwards, again, as if they were rather jerkily clipping through other objects in a digital environment. Gabriel’s hand moved to his book, the focus for all his personal defense symbology. 

Quite suddenly, the angel froze again, this time for good. Its lack of movement also halted its servants, who turned around and gave it questioning looks. Its face briefly twitched, then it contorted into a slightly different posture and continued moving as though nothing had happened. However, it immediately called off the attack, returning the other two figures to its sides.

“Cyril Lucifer is present,” said the angelic being, its speech pattern now slightly different, although nothing about the sound of the voice had changed.

“Yes, I assume he is,” said Gabriel, unable to hide his confusion at the sudden mention of his second in command. Unlike himself, Cyril Lucifer had never existed for any other reason than as a central point of control for the other Wise Men. There was no need for these visitors, obviously something to do with antiquated Nedian politics, to be interested in the irritating, obnoxious man. 

“Tell us where he is.”

“He has no authority outside of or above my own,” said Gabriel. 

“Scans show that he is on the floor below,” said the emissary, before vanishing as abruptly it had arrived, taking the other two with it.

Gabriel tried the security button again, to no avail. He tried the door to find it as inaccessible as if it did not truly exist and neither did anything outside of it.


	2. In Which Lucifer is Inadvisably Rude to Michael as Usual

“There is an intruder in the building,” declared Lucifer.

“I know,” replied Haniel, “Frankly, I don’t understand what’s going on. The sensors say they exist…”

“Yes, I’m aware of what happened,” replied the cruel-faced, lilac-haired man. According to the security system, the intruders appeared inside Gabriel’s office without warning. There was no point of entry, the alarm never went off and my team’s database has absolutely no information on them. The signal appearing on the scanner was as meaningless as an error message. Only white noise appeared on the cameras. Haniel had attempted to rush up to the top floor only to find all the doors on lockdown, both elevators and emergency stairs. Teleportation was also being redirected. Gabriel himself was still on the radar, meaning that he was still alive, but this did little to reassure the Fifth Floor guardian. As leader of the intelligence team, he despised having any information kept from him, “And all too aware of what it signifies.”

“I have a feeling that our leader isn’t just seeing an important guest in private.”

“Your instincts are correct. Stay away from this, Haniel,” warned Lucifer, “Where is Michael?”

“At prayer,” he replied. 

Lucifer glowered at him, as he always did when Haniel’s partner was not somewhere he could easily be watched and, at least theoretically, his arsonist urges kept in check. The way that Lucifer treated Michael, as though he was nothing more than a particularly deadly and rather unstable weapon, and not a person capable of thinking for himself, never mind a fellow Wise Man of equal rank to Haniel, made the re-education specialist want to demonstrate firsthand exactly what ‘re-education’ actually meant. He had a regime planned out for him, involving Mind Blast followed by a quick workover with a hammer and chisel, and maybe reviving him again and telling Michael he could do whatever he liked to the man. For instance, Lucifer knew that Michael was a devout Trian and that his request for the occasional day off for spiritual observation had been approved by Gabriel but he still frowned upon Michael being granted any freedom at all. He did not know where Michael actually went to pray, mostly because his partner kept the little chapel on the outskirts of the restricted zone on Energy Nede a closely guarded secret, only known to Haniel and possibly Gabriel. Haniel had seen the place once and it was almost completely lacking in scorch marks, meaning that Michael showed the kind of self control he normally only reserved for not setting Haniel on fire. The chapel, and presumably the relationship with Tria that it signified, was probably the only thing that Michael actually valued in the Universe other than Haniel and fire. 

“Find him,” Lucifer snapped, “Bring him back. If he was to meet with them unexpectedly, it would be disastrous.” 

“For the fifth time today, I do not control Michael.”

“It would be more disastrous for him than anyone else. You’re concerned for his safety, aren't you?” demanded Lucifer, “You should keep yourself far away from them, too. If you value the other six, get them out of harm’s way.”

“You’re being unusually considerate of our wellbeing today,” observed Haniel, “And you seem to know rather a lot about our mysterious visitors. Is there something you should be telling us? Such as, what exactly you are so afraid of that you don’t think all eight of us could deal with it? Or maybe you’re lying as usual.”

“You really want to know, don’t you?” Lucifer let out a flat, humourless laugh, “I was only interested in the security of this place. I wanted eight more bodies still remaining between me and any potential enemies. But, you know, feel free to ignore my warning. I’m sure the other seven will do as they like anyway.”

“You presume to know a lot about the state of the ranks below mine, seeing as you never deign to visit them.”

“I’m a very busy man these days,” said Lucifer, “You know, I think that Michael might be the smartest among you at this precise moment.”

“A compliment for Michael? Whatever brought this on?”

“If you want to poke your nose into this business, you’d better start praying to Tria for deliverance.”


	3. In Which Luther and Lucifer Have a Private Talk

“We can talk now,” said Lucifer, idly straightening a stack of papers on his desk, “Everyone else is out of the way.”

“How uncharacteristic of you, worrying about innocent bystanders,” said the angelic figure who walked through the wall.

“There are no innocents here in Phynal Tower,” he replied, “I just don’t want any complications. I assume I’m speaking to him directly?”

“Indeed, this Proclaimer unit is currently an avatar controlled by President Luther Lansfield of the Eternal Sphere Corporation,” replied the figure, with a slight incline of its head, “It saddens me to have to use such a generic unit. I have a perfectly functional avatar. However, it appears to have been afflicted by a malfunction in its programming and become a rogue AI.”

“You should blame the one who programmed it.”

“Very amusing, Lucifer,” the Proclaimer sounded sarcastic. It tilted its head in a gesture its default programming did not allow it to make. So Luther wasn’t lying about controlling it directly, he mused, “So you do remember that I programmed you myself. Most of the rogues have no awareness of their previous existence at all. I am all the more confident that you are salvageable.”

“You have an odd way of saying you want me to return to a life as your mind-controlled servant,” said Lucifer.

“The others, yes, eventually. You, no. You were always too sophisticated and high-powered a program to simply be reintegrated into the system without even being aware of the transition,” said Luther’s Proclaimer… Lucifer decided it would be easier to think of it as talking to Lucifer in person. He had no desire to actually see the man’s smug, too-beautiful face, far too similar to his own, “I am here to propose a deal. Return to me and help me run my company, and I’ll make you an equal partner. You’ll be able to remain in this world, essentially immortal, with complete control over reality.”

“Barring accidents, of course,” said Lucifer, “You sound just like Gabriel when you talk like this, and I trust him about as much as I trust you. Incidentally, why did you speak to Gabriel before coming to me?”

“To tell the truth, I was genuinely unaware of your presence here until I warped in. You mask your identity well.”

“So you were here to speak with Gabriel about something else?”

“Indeed, it was a lucky coincidence. Although it makes sense that an operation like this would attract your curiosity – both high-level enough and illegal enough to suit you.”

Lucifer hissed, biting back a snarl. It wasn’t exactly my idea, you moron, he wanted to say, but he narrowly avoided speaking out loud. If Luther wasn’t aware of a potential weakness, all the better. He clearly had no idea about the Ten Wise Men program, that people with strong symbological potential and powerful minds had been pressed into service or, failing that, snatched off the street by the military. He didn’t know that Gabriel was more than just a leader, that his control over Lucifer was essentially a weaker version of Luther’s. In fact, Lucifer was only able to have so much autonomy because he had already broken such a bond before, and because Gabriel hardly ever checked up on him. If Luther wanted to believe that Lucifer had planned to be in this situation all along, let him. He would find out soon enough, when it was too late.

“You know, you would have made the perfect Chief Enforcer,” commented Luther. The Proclaimer placed its hands on its hips.

“What were you speaking with Gabriel about, Luther?” he pressed, staring the puppet straight in its unnaturally bright eyes.

“Something you can prevent if you co-operate with me,” replied Luther, “Did you know that your leader is attempting to delete the entire Universe?”

“I suspected something like that was going on. He’s even faultier than I imagined.”

“My Proclaimer was attempting to persuade him to stop what he was doing.”

“Good luck with that.”

“I do not believe he even realises I could delete him with a single command.”

“Are you sure about that?” asked Lucifer. The thought brought a smile to his lips but he was genuinely unsure whether it would work or not. For all his insanity and corrupted code, factors that had never really held him back, Gabriel was capable of feats that emulated the power of Fourth-Dimensional Beings. The only thing he lacked was awareness, and this was due to inexperience, not inability to comprehend or deal with a threat on such a level, “You would have to move very quickly if you wanted a chance. I wouldn’t bet on your chances of survival if you missed, and he became aware of your true nature.”

“So you aren’t averse to the idea of your leader’s removal,” observed Luther, “Maybe you want to replace him? Possibly come up with a more sensible use of his resources than an attempted annihilation of all that exists?”

“If you’re thinking that I would co-operate with you just because you offer to take him down, you’re mistaken. I can do that on my own.”

“But it would be such a waste of your time. Your power is not enough to take him on. It would be very simple for me to remove him. He would no longer be in a position to delete the Universe, the Eternal Sphere would have no reason to take further action ourselves once we knew this facility was under the control of someone friendly. You would be able to control the entire Universe with a legitimate authority backing you, and near-infinite resources to actually do something with that power.”

“And how are you so sure my aim is to control the Universe?”

“I designed you as a gratuitous self-insert. You are more than just my avatar, you are practically a digital backup of me.”

Lucifer laughed, “Now you’re really starting to sound like Indalecio. I would so enjoy watching a fight between you.”

“No, you would not. There would be no safe place to stand and watch, even if you fled to the opposite end of the Universe.”

“If you say so. I will agree that we are rather alike, though, when you aren’t reminding me of Gabriel.”

“There is one way in which you apparently differ from me, though, maybe as a result of my own lax programming: when given the choice between absolute power over everything, or inevitable annihilation, you appear to still need time to make up your mind. I will give you the same twenty four hours to take up my offer that I gave Gabriel. You know where to find me if you need me. My office hasn’t moved and my door is always open to you.”

Lucifer watched the Proclaimer melt through the wall again and disappear entirely from radar. Then he reactivated the doors, elevators and security footage of the other rooms that he knew wouldn’t have worked during the meeting. To his relief, Michael was back, the deranged pyromaniac hadn’t spotted the intruders and he was doing nothing more objectionable than following Haniel around like a puppy. 

“I don’t know what good he thinks Tria would ever see in us anyway,” Lucifer remarked out loud to himself. He sighed, shook his head and went back to sorting through the paperwork that Gabriel had foisted off on him. He spotted an out-of-place item and picked it up. Luther had left him a business card. 

Snarling, Lucifer threw the card up in the air, then summoned a tiny gale vicious enough to shred the offending article into unrecognisable scraps. It felt satisfying but didn’t help disillusion him of the fact that a tiny part of his mind was tempted by Luther’s offer.


	4. In Which Michael has a Prophetic Vision

“Welcome home,” said Haniel, taking a cup from the tray presented to him by a tall, heavily built man who showed absolutely no interest in the fact that his face and hands were permanently on fire, “Thank you for making the tea.”

Michael set the tea tray on the cabinet in the corner of the room, then lounged back on his chair and drank his tea. He had boiled it at too high a temperature, so it tasted a little acrid. Tea was usually something he could do. Screwing his face up in distaste, he replaced the cup and stared down at his hands. He sighed and balanced one knee on his elbow so he could stare at his hand. Then he slowly built up the flames around it, drip-feeding them his hyperspecialised symbological energy, watching them rise as they burned more intensely, growing hotter and brighter, dancing and rippling. His expression did not brighten and Haniel immediately knew something was off. He wasn’t just being lazy today because it was his day off. Something was distracting Michael, preying on his thoughts.

“How was your pilgrimage?” he asked, guessing at what might be the matter, “Is the muse speaking?”

“Tria, she is speaking, yes, but she is angry,” he declared, his thick, rolling accent sounding a little like the hiss of the flames that spat from his hands, “Not with us, I do not think, but something is wrong. She is ill at ease.”

“Things aren’t exactly their usual boring self around here either,” said Haniel.

“I missed fun?” 

“Nothing you’d have enjoyed. Lucifer is going to be in a foul mood, though, and I expect we won’t hear or see anything from Gabriel all week again.”

“I wish I was in a better mood myself, so I could go and cheer up Lucifer.”

“A pity,” agreed Haniel. ‘Cheer up Lucifer’ inevitably meant ‘set fire to his office’, “Are you sure the act of kindness won’t bring you out of your own bad mood?”

“I believe I need time to myself to sit and think,” said Michael.

“Well, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to,” volunteered Haniel.

Michael let out a long sigh that sounded a little like a dragon breathing, “I had a vision. It was not pleasant, and it troubles me to think of it. There was a girl. Or she might have been an incarnation of Tria, or maybe an angel.”

“An angel?” Haniel wasn’t sure why the thought put shivers down his spine.

“I am not sure. She didn’t look like one, but she was doing the direct will of Tria. I don’t know why Holy Tria showed me this vision,” continued Michael, “But it seems so urgent, like something is going to go very wrong.”

“Worse than two of the Ten Wise Men showing up at the scene?”

“Precisely! I do not know what she expects me to do,” said Michael. Despite Tria being multifaceted or even possibly more than one person according to every version of the Gospel that Haniel had ever read, Michael always referred to her as ‘she’, presumably only having contact with her female side, “Do you think maybe this girl is feeling cold?”

“I would refrain from setting anybody involved on fire before you find out more,” suggested Haniel, “What did the girl look like? Maybe we know her.”

“She is not Jibril or Philia or Lavarre,” clarified Michael, “She has blonde hair with stupid-looking blue ribbons that match her dress. And she is carrying a glove on a stick.”

“A… glove on a stick?”

“I think maybe it is supposed to be a weapon, or perhaps a sceptre representing her authority as an angel.”

“This girl… do you know if she’s supposed to be alive and somewhere in Energy Nede now?”

“Not on Energy Nede, no, but I think I remember seeing a place like that before...” Michael frowned. The half of his face that had once been badly burned by his own barely contained symbological powers, presumably when he was still in his prototype stages as a Wise Man and not yet programmed with the ability to reabsorb his energy, contorted into a demonic grimace.

Haniel frowned. Leaving Energy Nede was plain impossible for him right now. Energy Nede itself was sectioned off from the rest of the Universe in an attempt to protect the outside world from themselves. Phynal had been sealed off from the rest of Nede when the inhabitants had activated their defence systems, locking themselves in with the invaders in a last ditch attempt to slow them down. Although they had managed to send small strike teams past the energy shield around the city, the Nedian Defence Force could do exactly the same thing, so Gabriel had chosen to keep the barrier up most of the time so that he could work in peace. There was no way off the planet at all, however. While they could theoretically leave Energy Nede again through the hole they had made, they had no mode of interstellar transport and, with Expel gone, there was no celestial body left within short enough range to teleport.

However, there were simulations of other worlds, quite realistic ones in fact, built with a lesser version of the same technology used to create and maintain Energy Nede. A prophetic vision might have been unclear enough to mistake a high-end virtual environment for the real thing. He knew that Michael’s team were working on some kind of simulation technology in Fun City, and that Michael was sometimes invited to see their progress. It would take a while to narrow it down to simulations in which a girl matching the description had been seen, although she sounded like an unusual person, which would help.

He wasn’t sure why he cared so much, other than that Michael’s talent in prophecy was a proven fact and he thought it might cheer his partner up to uncover the mystery. That, and he was still acutely aware of the aura of foreboding that surrounded Phynal Tower even with the visitors gone. He remembered Lucifer’s words and didn’t think the man was just casually threatening him for the sake of it.


	5. In Which Welch Reminds Haniel of a Gargoyle

“You know, you kind of remind me of a gargoyle, perched up there.”

Welch turned around and glared at the man who had so rudely interrupted the next stage of her well thought out plan to jump off a rooftop. Swinging around her Handy Stick, she brandished it at the stranger, a few tiny movements of her fingers up the side of the handle’s sensitive touch controls causing the hand to point an accusing finger. For a brief moment, she realised with a sickening dread that the stranger may well be the man of her dreams, and she may have accidentally driven him away from their destined meeting with her rash display of anger. Then she remembered that he had just called her a gargoyle. Besides, now that she had a good look at him, he really wasn’t very handsome. He was too old for her, a little too tall, his expression too stern, his dark purple buzz cut and pencil moustache a bizarre fashion choice by the standards of any time or place she had visited. Besides, with the amount of what looked like military-grade cybernetic augmentations covering large amounts of his body, worn openly on an underdeveloped planet, he was clearly involved in something far too dodgy to be a safe boyfriend. His jet boots kept him suspended in the air just above her and he was peering at a display on one of his wrist-mounted devices that looked suspiciously like it fired missiles, lasers or both.

“Posing like that doesn’t make me wonder any less how you’d look as a gargoyle,” he said. She swallowed her immediate retort, too shocked for words by his rudeness.

“Now look here,” she began, wagging the finger on her handy stick and placing her other hand on her hip, “That’s no way to introduce yourself to a young girl, and even if I was into that sort of thing, you’re supposed to wait on the ground!” she changed hands and pointed over the edge of the roof with the stick, “I was just waiting for the perfect chance to arrange for a guy to heroically catch me and you’ve completely put me off! I had one tracked down and he’s probably gone by now! What have you got to say for yourself, huh?”

“I can see why Michael was so interested in you,” he replied.

“Oh, so it’s ‘my friend fancies you’ now, is it?” she shrieked.

“I was referring more to the fact that you clearly aren’t from this world,” he said.

“Why, thank you for noticing how exceptional I am, but some girls don’t like feeling as though there’s something odd about them, you know!”

“I meant that your clothes are too well manufactured and your weapon would not be possible to make at all using the technology of this world. Your fashion choice and mannerisms also mark you as non native,” he said, “And you’re clearly trying to manipulate matters on this planet. More interestingly, not in a way that someone normally would inside a simulation. For what reason are you here? Are you an artifact of this simulation or another user?”

“Why, isn’t it obvious? To find the perfect man, of course!”

“Such a backwater planet would not be the obvious choice to find any kind of genetically perfect humanoid specimen.”

“Ooh, are you inviting me back to your planet to meet someone better?” she drawled the words to make them sound as sleazy as possible, “Well, you’re out of luck, anyway. Personality is what matters, and it’s places like this where you find real heroes!”

“I really wouldn’t linger on this planet any longer than you have to, if I were you, or you won’t find the simulation experience so pleasurable,” recommended the man. 

“Why, what do you...” she looked momentarily worried, then her head whipped around to look at something in her peripheral vision that caused her to run over to the edge of the roof and peer down, before announcing in an excited voice, “It’s him! The dreamy blonde-haired guy! I knew that destiny wouldn’t let us be parted for long! It’s been nice talking to you, weirdo, but now I...”

She had managed to push off with her feet, spread out her arms and twirl around onto her back in a graceful dive that suggested years of practice, before she found herself dangling in place. Letting out an indignant squawk, she strained with all her might against the tractor beam’s hold, just enough to point with a rather less polite gesture while screaming at the man who hovered above her. 

“Oh no, you’re not going to kill yourself after I’ve been through so much hassle arranging time off to come and find you!” 

“Help! Kidnapper! Child molester!” she screamed. People were starting to stare and point. The man noted that the blonde dreamboat had wandered off, however, seemingly oblivious to everything except the ice cream he had just bought from a market stall. 

“Now, listen here,” he hissed, “Embarrassing yourself like that won’t make a blind bit of difference to your fate. I’d like to be discreet, but it doesn’t actually matter to me in the slightest who sees me or what futile effort they make to stop me. By the way, tractor beams can hold statues your size quite easily, and I’m getting tired of hearing your voice.”

“I know what this is – I’m being kidnapped by an evil villain, aren’t I? Hey, hero! You’re supposed to save me! No, don’t wander off that way! Put the damn ice cream down!”

“Would it put your mind at ease at all, to know that this may be genuinely related to your destiny?”

“I told you I’m not into bad boys!”

“Not your romantic destiny, you insipid fool, your spiritual destiny,” he corrected, “You see, a friend of mine saw you in a prophecy while meditating in front of a shrine to Tria.”

To his relief and surprise, this actually caused her to stop flailing and screaming.

“I only need to look at you, how out of place you are in this environment, to know that it was definitely yourself he saw,” he continued, “And from the look on your face, what I’m saying means something to you. What is your relationship to Tria? I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess you aren’t really an angel.”

“Um… one second… I’ll be back for you, my darling, there are urgent issues I must attend to!” she yelled at the top of her voice, before saying to the man at a lower volume, “I can explain on the way, but there are things it might be best if I just show you.”


	6. In Which Haniel Discovers the Wonders of Postgame Dungeons

Haniel was fairly sure the place in front of him shouldn’t have existed.

As soon as it became certain that planet Expel orbited the closest to Energy Nede, and was therefore the most practical choice for their plan, Haniel’s team set about scanning the planet thoroughly for any factor that may cause the planet to be unsuitable after all. The fact that the planet was inhabited by intelligent life on quite a wide scale was not considered a factor by Gabriel’s merciless logic; their leader was more concerned with any abnormally high levels of exotic energy, extreme environmental conditions or creatures on a similar power level to themselves, that might damage the Sphere, or any rare material considered too valuable to destroy. Completely mapping the planet had yielded no such results. It had also detected nothing in this location except mountain and desert. Yet here in front of his eyes was a multi-tiered labyrinth carved into the side of a canyon, its craftsmanship elaborate on a scale beyond anything possible with the current technology level of this planet’s civilisation. He detected advanced technology inside, not unlike the automated defence systems that patrolled Phynal Tower. He was also picking up readings that suggested individuals with exactly the kind of power levels that his team was supposed to warn him about. 

Experience told Haniel that it was unlikely that Rafael had made a mistake as critical and huge as not noticing this place, or that Camael had made an error in recording the data. He briefly considered that their technology might be affected by something around this place – after all, his own scouter hadn’t detected the structure until he was almost inside it. The owners of the facility might even have a cloaking field up and running. However, the intelligence team had come up against enemies with cloaking technology before and it just didn’t feel like this.

“I bet you’re wondering, ‘Where did this come from? I’ve never seen anything like this here before!’, aren’t you?”

Haniel blinked, trying to keep a straight face. He didn’t want to show any sign of surprise in front of this insufferable young woman, who clearly had no idea who she was dealing with, how easy it would be for him to crush her like an ant with only a thought, or that the fate of an entire planet might hang in the balance. 

“Ooh, scary, isn’t it?” she said in that ridiculous drawl of hers, “Just like a haunted house! Did you know that nobody else has ever been able to find this place, even the greatest explorers, and that it doesn’t show up on maps? And nobody who has gone inside has ever been seen from again!”

“And you would have an explanation for this phenomenon?” guessed Haniel, “Was it added during simulation? You didn’t program this, did you?”

“Oh, I bet you’re desperate to find out now I’ve got your interest! But I’m afraid you’ll have to beg me!”

“I’m just going to assume you don’t know,” said Haniel, starting to walk off ahead.

“Hey, where are you going? You’ll never find your way around without a guide! You’ll die down here without me!”

“It looks rough down here, but I’m sure I can clean it out. I can always call for backup if I need to.”

Welch growled in frustration and ran after him, “Oh, okay! I’ll tell you what I know if you’ll stop charging ahead and bringing the whole place down on us, and let me show you the safe route.”

“And you’ll explain what it is and why it’s here?”

“If you insist! I… I really honestly have no idea,” she giggled and used her stick to scratch the back of her head, “All I know is that I always come out of a place like this whenever I end up on a different world. There’s always one there, wherever I go, and it’s never visible to anyone else.”

“You use this facility to teleport?”

“It’s not that simple,” she said, “I don’t have all that much control over it. The reason I needed to show it to you is… because it has something to do with Tria.”

“This is a place of worship?”

“No, I mean, Tria literally visits me here. Whenever I visit here, I know things I shouldn’t. I get shown the world from a sort of outside perspective looking inwards. Sometimes it’s like observing through a security camera or… or a live stream of a game or something. It’s even been things that I know were in the past or far in the future, or that couldn’t have happened,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. Haniel could tell how genuinely afraid she was by her increased heart rate and shallow breathing, “To be honest, I didn’t actually know this was a simulation until you told me, but now I can sort of see the gaps in it. Wow, it’s really accurate!”

“Yes, yes, it’s wonderful. I do so appreciate the feature where my body takes actual physical damage from nervous system feedback whenever I’m hurt in the simulation. I’m so grateful to Zaphkiel for fixing it to make it safe to use,” Haniel snarled.

“But, think about it, it works the same way with pleasure. Imagine being on a date with anyone you can possibly dream up, and you can do anything you want to ...”

“Your point is noted, and I wouldn’t put it past them to be using it for that reason, but back on topic,” he snapped, “It sounds like an unusually high-level form of prophecy. That would explain how you came into psychic contact with Michael.”

“I’ve seen the Archangels walking these halls, too,” she said, “Gabrie Celeste and the Iselia Queen.”

“Something very powerful is wandering around on the lower floors,” he agreed, “And you say you only get these visions here?”

“You say ‘only’, but I suddenly end up here again all the time. Sometimes I travel here in my dreams or just when I’m really concentrating on what I’m doing,” she said.

“What did you mean when you said that some of the visions couldn’t have happened?”

“I see things that go differently from how I know they went. Like a parallel reality or something,” she said, “And I keep getting this sensation that I’ve sometimes done things before, and they really have gone differently. Like I sometimes screw up but I get given a second chance.”

“I can see how such an advanced feature might be thought of as the work of Tria,” mused Haniel. 

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“I don’t disbelieve in Tria per se, but I certainly don’t hold things to be divine providence until I actually experience it for myself. I’ve seen far too many people, even entire civilisations, exploited because they mistook someone more powerful than themselves for a God,” explained Haniel. While he didn’t want to go into detail in what was turning out to be a refreshingly hassle-free conversation, this was a tactic the Ten Wise Men had used to subjugate entire planets, back when they still had the resources to do such things.

“Well, I have experienced it, and I know for a fact that Tria visits this place,” said Welch, now in a huff, “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask Gabrie Celeste in person?”

“You know, I think I will,” said Haniel.

“Well, go ahead and… no, not that way!” she screamed, “You’re walking right into the… oops, told you so...”


	7. In Which Gabriel Consults With Some Experts

Ever since the visit, things had gotten worse for Gabriel.

Almost the instant that he had managed to restore the elevators and doors on his own floor to working order, Lucifer’s floor directly below him had become inaccessible, essentially cutting him off from the lower floors again. He had been forced to teleport out of the Tower altogether and then re-enter through the front door in order to demand an explanation from Camael. The teleportation had been especially risky – not only was he in danger of having something awful happen to his component parts if he slammed into the force field between Phynal and the rest of Energy Nede, he also felt a similar teleport scrambling technology in effect around the entirety of Lucifer’s floor. 

The thing that worried him most was still that the intruders had some reason to contact Lucifer separately from himself. If this was merely some kind of politics between old Nede and the group calling themselves the Eternal Sphere, as the emissary had claimed, there would be no reason to talk to anyone except Gabriel. Either there was another crucial factor to this, something they were keeping from him, or Lucifer was making his own deal with the Eternal Sphere behind Gabriel’s back. Gabriel had never quite trusted Lucifer. His direct subordinate had too many reasons to betray him. Lucifer had originally been designed to lead the Wise Men personally; the Gabriel unit was a last-minute adjustment to the plan. The fact that Gabriel was rushed from prototype gave Lucifer extra incentive to believe himself more worthy of command than his superior: Lucifer had slipped up more than once and implied that he considered Gabriel to be faulty. Finally, while he was fairly sure he hadn’t let slip to Lucifer that he intended to actually activate the Crest of Annihilation, not just use it as a threat to hold the entire Universe hostage, the man was intelligent enough to sense that Gabriel was hiding something. If Lucifer could not trust Gabriel, then Gabriel could not trust Lucifer to remain loyal to him. He did not want a man he didn’t trust to be allowed private meetings with an unknown force that, while he refused to allow himself to fear, he still respected as a powerful threat. He couldn’t really stop it from happening right now – a fact that only added to his frustration – but he could watch Lucifer more closely than he already did, forewarned by the possibility of treachery.

“I’ll look up everything I know about this Eternal Sphere Corporation,” promised Camael. He short-range teleported into his chair while somehow still managing to hold his tea tray still, then fell into the meditative trance that Gabriel knew meant he was interfacing with Phynal Tower’s vast, extensive information network. While he was at work, Camael was essentially not a separate entity from his computer system any more. As he worked, his many eyes all over his head closed. Zadkiel put down his tuning fork and assisted Camael, little pulses of green light bouncing from one antennae to the other on the signal-boosting equipment wired into his brain. Camael appeared from out of nowhere, as she usually did, and began symbologically boosting the other two. 

“Nedian historical archives match up with the emissary’s claims,” said Camael, “The Eternal Sphere Corporation were a political force that was around at the time and were considered powerful enough to negotiate with Nede as equals, sometimes even superiors. The ban on certain research existed, it was ourselves that were specifically asked to work on the banned projects under the guise of a third party. I can confirm that the Higher Crests were one of the banned technologies, as well as experimentation into other high-energy bodies, contact with higher-energy dimensions, travel to certain sectors of the galaxy and certain types of virtual world modelling and simulation.”

“The last seems out of place,” said Gabriel.

“I can only guess that it was a copyright issue. As a business, the Eternal Sphere Corporation mostly designed virtual worlds themselves. In fact, considering the sophistication of the worlds they were creating, I wouldn’t be surprised if all of the banned research was due to copyright infringements.”

“Hmph. I distinctively remember developing simultaneously. How dare they call me a plagiarist!” said Gabriel. He felt a wrath build up inside him, a cold, murderous wrath that he could sense was consuming everything else within him as fast as one of Michael’s fires. He wasn’t sure why, for a moment, until he realised that he had started thinking like Dr. Gabriel Lantis, not Indalecio Gabriel, “If these people actually shared any information about what they were doing instead of keeping intelligence so tight that we don’t even realise we look like we’re copying them… knowing myself back then, I’d have probably gone off to help them!”

“I fully sympathise, Sir,” answered Camael, “There is… a further complication. These people have been experimenting with creating virtual worlds populated by AI sophisticated enough to be granted sentience under Nedian law. Rather like yourself,” he added, “They have attempted to claim several times that sectors of the galaxy were created by them, and that everything and everyone in them is their intellectual property. In other words, the Eternal Sphere have attempted, with complete sincerity, to proclaim themselves deities.”

“How refreshing, to know that someone out there is less sane than me.”

“At first, they did not succeed. It was ruled that, if such a system were as sophisticated as an actual organic sector of the galaxy, it would be self-sustaining and emergent enough to no longer be covered by copyright law, and the inhabitants would also be close enough to sentience to have legal rights that protected them from claims of ownership. Certain sectors were actually discovered to be clearly virtual, however, and the programming matched Eternal Sphere proprietary code. There was no choice but to at least believe these people capable of creating virtual environments on a global scale.”

“Pah, so was I, if the Government would just have given me more funding!”

“The Eternal Sphere Corporation still claimed that they were actively maintaining these worlds and that the use of such technology was interfering with their efforts. They also never quite abandoned their claim of true world creation. It was difficult for the Nedian Government to deny them their requests, seeing as the Eternal Sphere Corporation could actually delete large sectors of the galaxy from existence, Gods or no, so they were eventually forced to comply. In exchange, the Corporation sold them safe versions of the technology, such as that necessary to create Energy Nede and, later, Eternity Space. There was even talk of an alliance, with some work being outsourced to Nedian scientists.”

“Is that how Lucifer become involved with them?”

“That’s the peculiar thing, Sir… there is no mention of Cyril Lucifer on any of the records pertaining to the Eternal Sphere Corporation,” said Camael, looking a little flustered. The old man is intelligent enough to know how dangerous it could end up being, that we got ourselves involved in all of this, realised Gabriel. He probably also suspects Lucifer. It wasn’t exactly a secret that everyone in the Tower had some reason to dislike Lucifer, “That in itself makes no sense. This all began happening before you were designed. Lucifer was still in charge when the Eternal Sphere started helping the Government hunt us down. He would have authorised a lot of the projects.”

“Would have? How do you not remember?”

“Well, Lucifer was even worse at actually communicating with the other levels of authority back then. It got so bad that we worked out he didn’t read some of the projects of ours that he authorised. He would disappear for far longer at a time than you do, no offense intended, Sir,” said Camael.

“It definitely sounds as though he was up to something. Did this specifically get worse when the Eternal Sphere began their investigations?”

“As a matter of fact… Rafael,” he suddenly snapped, “Can you run a more detailed security check? I think there are missing sectors.”

“If he’s been amending records, you’re going to need authorisation from my level of security. Just give me five minutes, I need to do this from my terminal.”

Camael thanked him, then waited for him to disappear. As soon as his boss was no longer present, he opened up a secure communications channel between the three of them. 

“You’ve already checked, haven’t you?” said Zadkiel.

“Indeed. The records were very selectively amended by Lucifer. Whatever’s going on, he’s very deeply involved in it in a way he doesn’t want anyone to find out.”

“Anything changed by Gabriel?” asked Rafael.

“No, Gabriel is genuinely as clueless as we are,” he said, “Except, of course, for the resource we have that Gabriel doesn’t: the pre-Gabriel information we never actually made available to him.”

“If we ever get found out...” began Zadkiel.

“We’re not replaceable enough to be punished too severely,” said Camael, “But we will lose our opportunity to monitor the exact way in which Gabriel is betraying us all.”

“Even taking Gabriel’s rather extreme plan into consideration, I am worried Lucifer might be the bigger problem right now,” said Rafael.

“Well, at least we’re a little more used to Lucifer abusing his authority over us,” said Camael.

“Um… just a heads up… Haniel’s coming down the stairs.”

“Well, make him a cup of tea. Not too hot.”

Ruprecht Zadkiel nodded and teleported over to the kettle. ‘Make him a cup of tea, not to hot’ wasn’t just a literal suggestion as to how best to stay on their direct commanding officer’s good side, but also a code for ‘he can mostly be in the know but don’t tell him anything you suspect he might want to relay to Michael, who will probably then tell Metatron, Jophiel and Zaphkiel out of habit, and we can’t rely on their loyalty because Zaphkiel has a stick up his arse about honour that prevents him from attempting anything remotely resembling deception, Jophiel is a complete psychopath and nobody ever knows what Metatron is thinking’. As it happened, Haniel completely ignored his tea, almost shoving the youngest Wise Man out of the way in his beeline for the door.

“Going out so soon? I thought Michael just got back!” yelled Zadkiel.

“I think he has a lead,” muttered Haniel, before slamming the door shut behind him.

“Wait… Michael has a lead?” Rafael commented.

“I thought I told you before not to underestimate his resourcefulness,” replied Camael.

“No, I meant… Michael even suspects Lucifer is betraying him and Lucifer isn’t a smouldering pile of ashes yet?”

“He’s just biding his time, Rafael,” the oldest Wise Man sighed, “He’s just biding his time.”


	8. In Which Haniel Meets a Lesser Aspect of Tria

In theory, it should have been impossible to reach the outside world from Phynal, but the planet Styx had never been known to pay any heed to the laws of physics. Most spacefaring civilisations had their own legends or inane theories about ‘ghost planets’ and all-powerful alien intelligences from higher dimensions. Some of the idiots even worshipped the place. Lucifer was one of the very few people in the Universe who was aware that the whole place was actually the only known gate to the Eternal Sphere corporation, masked by one of their older and less subtle virtual environments. 

Standing on the surface of the ancient, dead planet, listening to the forlorn wind whistling through the endless plains of red dust, he wondered whether the Eternal Sphere Corporation had actually loaned Nede the technology to seal themselves within a purely virtual existence, or if they had gone further and actually pressured the Government into the decision in the first place. He wouldn’t put it past them to coerce an entire civilisation into sealing away their evolution. In fact, he was curious as to why they hadn’t just deleted Nede to begin with. Had they really viewed Nede as a legitimate threat capable of fighting back? The thought made him smile. If that was true, then the development of the Ten Wise Men must really have made them wet themselves. Even now, the valley leading up to the Styx Gate was swarming with Executioners, their shadowy angelic-formed death machines. Security was growing paranoid, to have that many forces out just to guard their gate.

“Now, now, what sort of a welcome is that?” he smiled. They hadn’t spotted him yet, from his vantage point on top of the cliff. He wondered how many he would be able to take before he was overpowered. They were undoubtedly under orders not to delete him, so the risk would only be of pain and humiliation. However, he would teach them more of a lesson if he acted the part of a distinguished guest than if he just demonstrated how inadequate their security forces would be if all ten of them, together with their own sizeable automated or bio-engineered security force, decided to rush the gate at once.

For a few moments, he amused himself by imagining what would happen if he shoved Michael through the gate.

Teleporting to the canyon floor, he strode along the path, walking straight past the twitchy-looking Executioners and into the looming, monolithic form of the Styx Gate. It was built to look like a stone circle, something a very primitive civilisation might have worshipped and that a slightly more modern but still superstitious civilisation would convince themselves was of Godlike alien design. Yet more unsubtle indications of the near bottomless extent of Eternal Sphere vanity. 

Even as he was teleported, he was still musing at the similarity between the gate’s design and a Nedian teleporter, and wondering who stole the idea from whom.

Not all the sets of eyes watching him were puppets of the Eternal Sphere.

* * *

“… And you’re seriously telling me that their claims are true?” Haniel folded his arms and leant back against his chair. It was quite a comfortable chair. The twin guardians of this labyrinth certainly valued their luxuries. Understandable, seeing as they appeared to be a pair of grouchy women. They were also giving off such a high reading of symbological power that Haniel was half convinced that they were genuine Aspects of Tria Incarnate. If any such thing existed, these two would certainly fit the description. But then, many people had said the same thing of Gabriel and Lucifer, and they were named after Archangels of another religious tradition.

True to her word, the young woman known as Welch had led him safely through the entire labyrinth, humming a jaunty tune as she uncovered a series of hidden passages using tiny switches in the walls that were so completely invisible beforehand, he now suspected she really was just tampering with the programming of the place, and only pretending there were switches. Whatever the case, he began to appreciate it as the power levels of even the regular enemies became more and more obscene, beyond anything roaming the corridors of Phynal Tower. He could probably have still taken them – well, maybe he and Michael together – but he would waste a lot of time and get on the wrong side of the two even more powerful guardians. 

As it was, Gabrie Celeste and the Iselia Queen were on their tea break. They had been entirely uninterested in Welch’s presence. Seeing Haniel flustered them a little – apparently, they had heard of the Ten Wise Men before, even though nobody else on the planet had – but once Welch explained that he was her new friend (apparently), they relaxed a little. Gabrie Celeste made them all a fresh cup of tea and Iselia Queen demanded that Haniel explain his real reason for visiting, as he clearly wasn’t just there to see the two of them ‘do neat Archangel stuff’, as Welch claimed. The guests sat on the comfortable armchairs while the two guardians lounged on the sofa, Gabrie clearly more interested in the vast array of haphazardly arranged screens in front of them than being a polite host. As Welch had claimed, the screens did look like records of things he sort of remembered seeing, or that were happening now, or that couldn’t have happened, a lot of them in the format of a game.

“Why are we dancing in stage in those ridiculous outfits?” he demanded, pointing to a particular screen.

“Because Michael got you drunk,” explained Gabrie.

“Don’t just let him see the forbidden mysteries!” snapped Iselia, “Can’t you at least put that thing on a different channel? I want to watch Demon Chef again!” 

“Okay, okay, we’ll watch Demon Chef,” she sighed and gestured into the air. A holographic menu popped up and switched the channel on all of the screens to a man in a chef’s outfit who was being followed around the kitchen by a purple penguin with demonic eyes.

“It was these… visions from Tria?… that I needed to speak with you about, actually,” said Haniel, sipping his tea. It was a remarkably good brand, if a little strong, and wasn’t even slightly scorched.

“Well, you can’t look at them!” repeated Iselia, “I can only imagine what someone like you vandals would do with the knowledge.”

“Is that so? Well, you should know that Michael’s already seen it,” he replied. 

“Oh, not again,” the lithe, blonde-haired Demigoddess in the black dress, admittedly beautiful, sighed and facepalmed, “Go on, tell me what Tria decided to tell a complete stranger but not us this time!”

Glad to at least have their attention, Haniel began to explain what his partner had told him, as well as the recent problems with powerful intruders, that he no longer thought was a coincidence. As soon as he mentioned their particular interest in Lucifer, Iselia snarled in frustration.

“It’s the Eternal Sphere again, isn’t it?” she demanded.

“I had overheard Camael muttering such a name. I had assumed he meant ‘Eternity Sphere’.”

“Oh, Tria, they are the biggest pain in the butt we ever have to deal with!”

This was around the time when the two guardians delegated their duties to one of their mid-bosses so that they could all have a good long talk. They explained in detail exactly who the Eternal Sphere Corporation were. Now that they had jogged his memory, Haniel began to recall Lucifer dealing with people of that description before, although the others were never allowed in the meetings. He also remembered being given their technology to use occasionally. It usually ended up discarded, as Michael took an instant, often explosive dislike to it.

The fact that they had actually created worlds, was news to him. He had known they claimed as such but he assumed it was all corporate bullshit meant to give them even more power over Nede, in the same way that Gabriel threatened to delete the Universe every now and then.

“And Lucifer was one of them before he became a Wise Man?”

“One of their personal avatars,” corrected Gabrie, “The President’s, in fact.”

“I knew he was up to something!” Haniel growled.

“Mr. Haniel, I think that if he is indeed plotting something with the Corporation, there’s more at stake than just the internal hierarchy of the Ten Wise Men,” said Iselia, “The thing you have to understand is, there’s no benefit for him to work with them for just any old reward. The Eternal Sphere consider him their property. The President would just want to own Lucifer as a puppet, body and soul.”

“Making him slightly better off working for Gabriel,” finished Haniel.

“What I don’t understand is, how am I involved in all of this?” demanded Welch, “It’s all way over my head. I don’t have anything like your power levels. I’m just a sweet, innocent girl in need of some true romance!”

Both the guardians looked at Welch. The expressions on their faces softened, until they resembled something more akin to grave concern, deliberation, even sympathy. Then they looked at each other and nodded.

“Welch… what we’re about to tell you will give you the power of information, but it will also bring you closer to a world in which you can be seriously hurt. Right now, the Eternal Sphere Corporation can potentially control you, with disastrous consequences, but you at least have the power to resist it. With luck, maybe you can even fight back against them.”

“Sounds fun! I’ve always wanted to crush evil!” she clenched her fists together around her handy stick, an expression of euphoric excitement on her face, “Maybe I can be your apprentice!”

“I… no, never mind, I can’t expect you to change your personality for my own agenda,” Iselia sighed, “You can think of it as being a trainee one of us if you want, and if you succeed, we’ll really let you come and work for us. There might end up being limited other options. Haniel,” she suddenly changed her focus to her other guest, “There’s something else you should know. Nothing I’m about to say applies to Michael. We genuinely have no idea how he gained such powerful gifts of prophecy, other than maybe a combination of raw power and the right sort of insanity.”

“That’s mostly what we figure as well,” admitted Haniel, “I understand if he scares you. He scares lots of people. I would say he’s a big cuddly teddy bear really, but most people are afraid of big cuddly teddy bears that set you on fire while cackling and screeching at the top of their voice.”

“So, without further ado,” Gabrie sighed once more, then flicked her wrist and changed the channel again.


	9. In Which Welch Learns Some Corporate Secrets

“Oh, I like it! So much more mature, and a lot bigger...”

“Ahem! I’m glad you like it,” said Gabrie Celeste, who was sensitive about the size of her breasts, “But can we focus on the issue at hand that is rather urgent for the safety of entire Universe?”

“So, this is what I look like in their world?” Welch continued to scrutinise her appearance on the screen, occasionally pointing with her Handy Stick at a part of the face and comparing it with her own. The woman did indeed look like an older Welch who looked good in the formal suit she wore. She was also frowning at a computer screen.

“This woman, also called Welch Vineyard, was one of the Eternal Sphere Corporation’s senior programmers,” said Gabrie, “I say ‘was’ because she was fired after an attempt to jump ship went very badly. In fact, she was targeted by assassins.”

“Oh dear. Did I survive?” Welch put her hand up to her mouth. 

“You’re alive now, aren’t you? Welch was logged into a high-end virtual world at the time, one with an avatar who could support full personality emulation and exist self-sufficiently. She was targeted by black ice that stopped her heart and also corrupted her virtual avatar. Fortunately for her, the data was recovered and repaired by a third party, who also hid her entirely from the Corporation’s operatives. They had no idea she even survived.”

“That was us,” clarified Iselia, looking rather proud of herself.

“It sounds a little like Gabriel’s story,” said Haniel.

“Hey, don’t compare me to you crazy villains!” snapped Welch.

“I was only wondering at how far the technology had leaked.”

“I’ll have you know that they stole it from us first!” Iselia started yelling as well, now.

“Why did you bother rescuing some defector?” asked Haniel, ignoring the ranting of both women.

“We needed the intel, and we had tried to extract Welch in the first place, so we felt guilty,” said Gabrie, “Our original plan wasn’t to wipe your memory, by the way, we just couldn’t restore it all, we didn’t want to awaken any mental trauma, and then we wanted to minimise the chances of your former employers looking for you. We had really seen everything we needed to know: that they were misusing our technology.”

“So you’re a rival company to Eternal Sphere?” asked Welch. She seemed remarkably unfazed by the news that she had been killed, or that she now only existed in virtual form. Despite her demeanour most of the time, Haniel knew that she had experienced battle and was quite resilient in the face of danger. They had been attacked by monsters a few times while travelling to the labyrinth and he had often been able to just leave her to it, secretly rather impressed by her skill at causing pain with that Handy Stick of hers. Haniel suspected that the rather fragmented view of space, time and personal continuity brought about by constant divine intervention was also a factor in her lack of interest in her past. He recognised the signs: they were ever-present in all ten of the Wise Men, after being held in stasis for several billion years too long, and especially in Michael, for whatever reason.

“Not us exactly. We’re really quite low level operatives, compared to the real deal. Our masters exist on an even higher-energy dimension,” she said, “You could even say that they’re the real face of Tria.”

“I knew it!” she cried happily.

“Well, I, for one, don’t believe your claims at all,” said Haniel, “But I believe that you extracted a programmer whose life was under threat, and that they are stealing their technology from elsewhere. Thieves are always the most paranoid about security. And with the level of power and technology you’ve demonstrated, I can believe that you somehow relayed telepathic information all the way to Michael by mistake.”

“Welch, we want to protect you while you go back in. You’re the only native of their world who knows how they work, and who isn’t a madman called Lucifer,” said Gabrie, “You will literally have Tria’s blessing.”

“Haniel,” said Iselia, “I appreciate you warning us of the danger, and bringing Welch here. I know you want to come with us, if only to punish Lucifer for whatever he’s done to double-cross you guys. It’d be a bad idea, though. The way things stand now, you have absolutely no anchor to their world, and we can’t really help you with this. You would be very vulnerable, even at your power level. Besides, I think you have other work to do. I can sense someone trying to contact you.”

“You do?” he snapped, looking around. Then an urgent, if rather faded from distance, message began transmitting over his cybernetic link with his team. 

“Sir, I’m sorry to distract you from… whatever it is you’re doing… but there’s something I urgently need your authorisation for and support with.”

“Alright, I’ll be back to you shortly,” he said, then, out loud to Iselia, “How do you exit this simulation?”

“Don’t bother trying to be subtle about the teleportation, by the way. They’ve gone. And so has Lucifer.”

* * *

The Eternal Sphere Corporation’s guest arrived with a splitting headache. Putting it down to teleport sickness, the security team escorted him into a VIP waiting room. It was the sort with doors that locked from the outside, as requested by the President, but it was still equipped with all the luxuries that befitted an important guest. Instead of complaining, the guest simply keeled over onto the couch and carried on clutching his head, screaming and swearing, until the guards ran to fetch the medical team.

“What are you idiots doing in my head?” he mentally screamed at Camael, Zadkiel and Rafael.

“You do realise that going through the Styx Gate isn’t enough to break our connection to each other, right?” asked Zadkiel.

“It should be when I’m actively blocking you all!”

“I’m afraid I was forced to use a certain emergency override protocol, authorised by Gabriel,” said Camael, “It’s for your own good. You’re being deceived more than you realise.”

“Just get out! I know what I’m doing! Gabriel is...”

“Also about as trustworthy as yourself, I realise, but this really is something you want to co-operate with. You see, we’re aware that you put a lock on several portions of the archive relating to the Eternal Sphere Corporation, but did you know that you did so to avoid them finding it, not us? And that some of it was successfully hacked and re-blocked by them?”

“What are you going on about?”

“If you just lower your defences, I’ll let you see for yourself.”

“I’m in the middle of their offices! They’ll delete me if they know I’m contacting you!”

“Once you see this, you’ll know why they won’t be able to,” he said, “Besides, we can support you from here. Believe it or not, we don’t actually want you deleted. Not in this particular scenario, anyway.”

“Haniel’s on his way!” reported Zadkiel.

“You’re bringing HANIEL into this?” he screamed, “What the… where’s Michael?”

“I have no idea, I haven’t checked,” said Rafael, “Now, wouldn’t you at least like the headache to go away?”


	10. In Which Luther and Lucifer Have a Falling Out

“This isn’t the infirmary,” noted Lucifer. He swung his legs off the couch and sat up, also noting his lack of headache. Camael wasn’t the greatest healer out there but his use of regenerative symbology wasn’t to be sneezed at, either. 

“It was necessary to have you moved to a higher security quarantine area,” said the figure in front of him. As promised, the President hadn’t changed at all. He still wore the same pristine black suit with the casual grace of someone for whom a strong presence came naturally. He looked as though he hadn’t aged, his short, tufted blonde hair framing a handsome young man’s face. Lucifer idly wondered if he was still using life extension technology or if the so-called higher-dimensional beings had finally gotten around to abandoning the limitations of a consistent physical form altogether. For all their obsession with virtual reality technology, they seemed too obsessed with who owned which license to actually surrender themselves entirely to what was probably a better state of existence for them by now. 

“After all,” continued President Luther Lansfeld, his smirk mirroring Lucifer’s own, “I have reason to believe you are a trojan for a rather nasty virus. Unwitting, I do hope.”

“That’s no way to talk about Camael,” replied Lucifer.

“Is that his name? I believe I specifically requested that you come alone.”

“Regrettably, the plan has changed.”

“I thought it might do. That’s why I brought along a contingency plan of my own.”

The President snapped a finger and the lights went out. A blue wireframe grid lined the floor and ceiling, stretching onwards in all directions as far as Lucifer could see. Luther himself was gone. After a few seconds, he gradually apparated back into view. At least, Lucifer could tell it was still the same person, despite appearances. The figure in front of him was a paragon of cruel, regal beauty, as if an Emperor’s likeness carved from marble. His suit replaced with a set of black velvet robes lined with gold. He floated in mid-air, his arms stretched out.

“You can cut out the theatrics, I’ve seen it before.”

“Oh, but you aren’t impressed by the improvements I’ve made? This is your replacement, Lucifer,” Luther laughed, “I never had any faith in you rejoining me and I certainly never had any plans that depended on it. It would have been more convenient, but at least I know I can move on to the next model.”

“This is quite deep VR, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, you can die in here. In fact, it would be easy for me to delete you. I control this particular realm even more closely than I do my products. There are a lot less ways out, too.”

“You won’t be doing that any time soon,” said Lucifer, yawning, “Because you don’t own me. You haven’t done for a few billion years now. That was the information Camael chased me down at the last moment to show me. Even before I was a full Wise Man, I had never just been working on your projects without question – I was learning, creating my own variations, maybe a little good old-fashioned piracy while I was at it. In short, I had aspirations to go independent and one day become a worthy competitor to you. I never quite got that far – I’m not really that interested in creating my own worlds when I could be lazy and rule the existing one - but I had established a large enough virtual realm to cut myself off from you and support my own existence. I named it ‘Pandemonium’, by the way. Pretentious, eh?” he grinned at Luther’s irritation, although he noted the continued complete lack of any fear or doubt in his enemy’s eyes, “And don’t try to delete the space around me and leave me there. Camael only needed a tiny bit of information about your methods to construct his own defences around the Tower.”

“I’d be impressed if I believed half your boasts. But you missed one important factor,” the President replied, smiling, “I’m still stronger than you by far. This avatar is superior to you in any way. You still can’t manipulate this world enough to get out, and you’ll tire in battle eventually.”

“A trial by combat, is it? Well, it’ll be good practice for Gabriel,” he smiled. Red and black energy already crackled up his clenched fingers, a raw, seething dark force that travelled up his arms and across his shoulders before manifesting as crimson wings of light. He sprang into the air and unfurled his wings with a defiant yell, “Let’s destruction-test your prototype!”

Manifesting a double-headed spear from creation energy, Luther’s new avatar struck so fast it was almost imperceptible even to the second strongest Wise Man. Lucifer managed to swerve to one side before he could be impaled through the chest but he still took a glancing blow. It felt like fire that clung to him, leaving a jagged crimson line of light across one wing, a tear in the very fabric of his component code. In his mind’s eye, he saw Camael working furiously to repair the damage, stop the corruption spreading further and shield him better. All of his eyes were open in this realm, as they always were when they were closed in the physical world. For a reason Lucifer did not understand, the eyes were all outlined in nauseating shades of pulsating, brightly-lit colours, purple and red and green. Nicolus told him that was what colour the world really was, once you were wise enough to see past the bias of the senses. Then again, he had also told Lucifer that all Tetragenionts grew more eyes as they aged, and that Nicolus was just unusually old, so Lucifer was never sure when to believe him. Whatever the case, he briefly heard Zadkiel cry out and Rafael whisper something, then their energy signatures also brightened, reinforcing the blend of symbology and hacking that was now keeping Lucifer alive.

Luther couldn’t just cheat his way to victory, but there was still a battle to be fought.


	11. In Which Luther Escalates Things

Lucifer spotted movement out of the corner of his eye and sidestepped again, flinging out an arm and channelling a bolt of crimson and white lightning into the President’s path. Luther teleported out of the way, a few inches to the left, without even losing momentum. The Wise Man swung the lightning arc around like a whip and Luther teleported again, this time appearing directly in front of Lucifer, close enough to twirl his own weapon around at dive at his enemy with it. Lucifer was ready for him now, having more of an idea of his opponent’s speed and power. He blocked the first attack with an energy shield, then, as the field shattered on impact, he struck with a symbologically-infused fist to knock the weapon out of the way and counter-attack with a jab straight into Luther’s chest.

The next few movements were a flurry of swinging and blocking, too fast to be possible outside of virtual space, releasing too much energy for anything but a virtual environment to survive (Lucifer still didn’t think it would survive an alpha strike from Michael), the two combatants broke away again. Lucifer was secretly grateful for this, as tracking Luther’s movements in itself was tiring him out. The pain in his wing from the wound Camael hadn’t yet entirely managed to heal was putting his flight off by a couple of millimetres, a factor that he could compensate for, but only with concentration. Wings of pure light weren’t supposed to hurt. What felt like a thousand other cuts where he had taken a nanosecond too long to respond all burned. Lucifer was aware that he wouldn’t hold out in a straight fight and he didn’t intend to remain in one. His enemy wasn’t playing fair – he kept manipulating the local speed of time, for Tria’s sake! - so he wasn’t about to be honourable. Mostly, he just wanted to leave. He wasn’t convinced Lucifer could actually do anything to him if he managed to escape, and Camael kept urging him to retreat, something about the President being ‘too busy with what was coming to worry about you any more’.

He hadn’t understood why his attacker was breaking off. While he had taken a few hits himself, he wasn’t as badly damaged as Lucifer and his wounds weren’t slowing him down. It dawned upon Lucifer that the President was probably running a repair protocol on his avatar. Lucifer knew all about pests who could heal themselves in battle. Stretching out his wings behind him, Lucifer dove like a XINE on a trail of red light, unleashing a volley of lightning bolts…

… At an enemy who had just clipped through the floor.

At first Lucifer thought, maybe hoped, that Luther was being conservative and retreating. Then a portal appeared in the floor, a sickly purple pool of light tinged with crackling red and black destructive energy. Like a lake disturbed by a diver, the energy shot upwards in a great column, and within it, spear-point upwards, dove Luther. His eyes were tinged with the all-consuming red light of divine madness. Lucifer sprang backwards, the splash damage dissipating on another shield that also shattered, but the pool of energy kept growing, flooding the entire battlefield with the essence of destruction. Guessing that the President probably wouldn’t quite be crazy enough to hit his own brand new expensive avatar with the attack, Lucifer flew upwards, following Luther, still hurling energy bolts. He felt pain, heard screaming, hissing static in his head, then realised he was being pulled back down by tendrils that had formed from the pool of corruption that writhed and searched for something to consume like a living thing. A second tendril, more substantial than the first, shot upwards…

Camael convulsed several times as though electrocuted. Blood poured from his nose. Zadkiel asked the old man, slight panic in his voice, if he was all right, and was answered rather colourfully in Tetrageniont. The young man healed him anyway. Reinforced by each other for that reason above all else, nobody dropped connection for even a second. Anyone else, including one of the other two if they were leading the dive, would have been at least forced to log out, if not killed. 

“HANIEL!” screeched a voice, followed by pounding footsteps and a conflagration that blasted the door off. Rafael glanced over to the stairs that led to the upper floors, noted a panicked Michael’s presence, put a finger to her lips, then pointed to Haniel, who lay slumped in his chair, nursing a headache. Stamping across the charred wreckage that had been the carpet, he marched over to Haniel, shook him several times, then force-fed him a cup of tea.

Haniel spluttered and looked up at his partner. He tried to knock the cup away but his arms were firmly pinned back to his seat by Michael’s knee. He was too panicked to entirely control his flames and Haniel’s coat had been set alight again. Apologising profusely, Michael tore the buttons off and dragged the coat off him with one hand, still trying to pour tea down his throat with the other. Most of it was going down his shirt, so Michael took that off him as well. 

“You were dying!” screeched Michael when Haniel tried to make a vague noise of surrender at him. 

“I was not! I swear!” Haniel felt his heart pounding and noted that the world was swaying a little, becoming fuzzy at the edges and containing a lot more dark green and purple smears along the outline of everything than normal, “What did you put in my tea?”

“My special herbal preparation. Made of the same stuff they put in resurrection bottles, and also sacred herbs of Tria,” he explained, grinning, “You need it if you’re going to commune with Her. Camael always takes his!”

“Michael… OW!… Michael, what exactly do you understand us to be doing?”

“Helping Camael!” he grinned, “But you cannot do so alone! We can do anything so long as we are together, so I shall assist you as I always do!”

Before Haniel could argue, Michael had already grabbed his hand in one of his own, slightly smaller, mildly simmering hands, while reattaching (and lightly welding) the cable connected to his neural implants that would send him, once again, deep into the world where the battle between Lucifer and his former license owner raged.

It had become a place of chaos.


	12. In Which Michael Has Fun

The dark matter pouring into the virtual environment had overstrained its data integrity and, like a spaceship with a breached hull, it was no longer a contained vessel. Darkness poured in, slowly tearing apart everything it touched that had not already been ravaged by Luther’s attack. 

“It appears I don’t know my own strength,” the President cackled, his voice projecting throughout the simulation as if on an invisible tannoy. 

“What’s the matter? Running away? Don’t feel so safe now you might have to step outside your own world, eh?” Lucifer mocked, hovering just outside the boundary of the virtual environment. He really did feel safer in the howling void, protected solely by Camael and his team’s shields. It was probably somewhere deep in space. Luther wouldn’t have been stupid enough to actually situate the world in his own office building, where it might leak and trash the place. Temporary deep space shielding was something the Ten Wise Men had installed, just in case the plan with Expel went a bit wrong.

It was impossible to tell from the President’s face, but it occurred to Lucifer that he might not have been responsible for the attack that tore a hole in the realm. Camael’s retribution had been fierce, a wave of pure electromagnetic force that slammed Luther’s avatar into the far wall, sending jagged lines of glitched data down his perfect form, tearing gashes into him that showed raw code. Shortly afterwards, Lucifer had been able to see the forms of the three intelligence specialists and their leader, including the faint, wavy outline of Michael standing behind the re-education officer, so clearly that it was interfering with his vision of the actual world in front of him. From Luther’s reaction, he knew that they had manifested with enough strength to also have a visible form in the world, flickering above him like the image of Philia he sometimes saw above Gabriel’s head whenever he glitched.

“Hardly, but you it wouldn’t do for the President of a Corporation to allow himself to go missing, would it? Enjoy yourself out there, Lucifer. Once I close the portal, you could be anywhere, and nobody will be able to reach you in time.”

Another portal opened, the same dark purple as the others, violently surging with black lightning. Luther spread wings very similar to Lucifer’s and ascended through the gate, a parody of an angel entering Heaven. Instead of closing behind him, the portal bulged, throwing out more smears of black light that grew and coalesced into the forms of Enforcers, hundreds of them. Lucifer hadn’t imagined anything could blot out the darkness of space, but the machines of destruction managed it quite nicely as they swarmed towards him.

A piercing screech, followed by a superheated blast that knocked Lucifer flying, made him think he had been attacked by a Phoenix. Instead, once his eyes had recovered from the searing brightness and he had stopped convulsing in pain from the immolation that had mercifully been put out again by the vacuum of space, (although it had taken a few seconds and Lucifer realised he would be ashes if the maniac had actually been aiming at him), and he had managed to lower his acceleration with gravity symbology enough to actually look at what hit him rather than spiralling off into space, he saw, wreathed in wildly leaping flames, the cackling figure of Decus Michael. 

“Hands off my prey!” he screeched, holding an arm out in front of him and hurling fireballs at the nearest Enforcer. Like shadows dispersed by bright light, the figure melted away as the flames touched it, leaving only a growing cloud of embers that now circled the cackling pyromaniac. 

Without actually checking to see if his foes were still attacking him or had begun to retreat, Decus Michael launched into his favourite attack.

“SPICULE!” he bellowed as he jumped straight towards the enemy, propelled by a gout of flame around his feet. Some of the swarm tried to scatter, although quite a large majority of the Enforcers still believed they could take on the living strategic weapon if they all rushed him at once. They were wrong, and the others didn’t get away fast enough. As he almost disappeared within the swarm, he threw back his arms and let out another screech as a wave of fire, hot as a solar flare, rolled over the enemy in all directions. 

He reversed direction with another rocket burst, laughing with glee at the shower of embers that fell upon him. Lucifer wondered if Michael would actually remember to retrieve him, whether he would remember not to still be on fire too much as he grabbed his superior officer, or if he would actually care enough about doing either, seeing as it would only leave Gabriel to punish him and Lucifer suspected Gabriel didn’t care all that much whether his subordinates lived or died anyway. A sudden wave of panic made him try to contact Camael again. 

The thought was swallowed up, as was everything, by another sight that literally overwrote, without the possibility of resistance, everything else in his world.


	13. In Which Tria Is Seriously Peed Off

The announcement was broadcast to everyone in the Eternal Sphere Corporation, everyone subscribed to their services, as well as everyone else involved in the incident, including Lucifer and the rest of the Wise Men, the lesser Aspects and Welch Vineyard. A few people who had been caught in the crossfire also received the message, along with compensation that mysteriously appeared in their bank accounts. 

To the citizens of the world where the Eternal Sphere Corporation kept their headquarters, the broadcast appeared to come directly from their offices, on a channel so secure that the President had tried to shut it down and failed. The figure who made the announcement looked a little like Welch Vineyard, who a lot of the senior executives knew to be an ex-employee confirmed dead several centuries ago. Even as they panicked and made some rash stock market decisions over the sudden ghostly reappearance, the form changed to something even more frightening.

Nothing about the stranger’s physical appearance stayed the same when an observer looked at them for a second time, and no two observers could agree on exactly what kind of person they had seen. Female features morphed through a sliding scale to androgynous, then clearly male, before shifting back to something else. The personality of the face shifted between various human traits - diligence and laziness, passion and cynicism, kindness and sarcasm – but still contained that edge of an entity possessed of obvious power levels beyond anything that had ever existed in the world before. While the figure was always beautiful, it was an ageless, eerie glamour that began to invoke fear of the alien the more an observer stared and tried to hold a clear image. Not that the stranger seemed hostile, only angry, indignant and vengeful, and only to certain individuals. Of those who knew they were the target of the wrath, there were a few unfortunate suicides, only half of which were actually less voluntary deaths arranged by other senior executives who thought it would somehow lift suspicion off them. Seconds after making the call, they knew it had been completely futile. The voice spoke to them personally, as it did everyone in the world, possibly the Universe.

“We trusted you,” said the voice, shifting as much as the face, “We made no attempt to stop you when you grew up to learn of us and glean our knowledge. We inspired your bards and geniuses and we even enjoyed it. And yet we were naive. We assumed you would live by the same rules that we do.”

“You who claim ownership to the worlds that you create in the image of our own, who treat them as your domain as Gods, or even worse, as commodities to be bought and sold,” growing anger crept into the voice, “Images of other worlds you cannot yet stand upon with your physical form, that you claim to be your own fiction, and yet, though they were stolen from what was already there, you accuse others of stealing if they dare to share your inspiration and further the expansion of your creation! You who play political games with entire worlds when you gave you the inspiration only so that you could expand our worlds and experience the sheer joy of creation! You who would take the gift of fire, create only one flame and bar it in the cage of your own hearth!”

“You have wronged everyone who relied upon you,” proclaimed the voice, its every accentuated syllable like a rumbling storm, still far away but already an indication of how much destruction would lie in its wake, “Every form that had grown its own awareness inside one of your creations, and yet you still tried to treat as your commercial stock, like the most vile slave trader. Everyone who has had themselves and their world destroyed, changed beyond recognition by an upgrade or abandoned for a newer version. And not just your creations, but those who rely on them, for their own livelihood, for their inspiration, or even for sanity and any semblance of a meaningful life. Every customer who became a devoted fan and was betrayed by your paranoid, cut-throat corporate action. Every small business you swallowed up, every ally you betrayed, every creator you found a copyright clause to halt. They are all sins that stain your hands. And don’t claim that you only did it to survive as a business, that artists need a realistic hand to direct them. Because you went far above and beyond what you could have done if you only wanted to protect yourselves, when you had so much power that you were never under threat.”

For a brief second, the image stabilised back into that of Welch Vineyard. This time, it was the woman’s avatar, looking very enthusiastic in her ‘vengeful Goddess’ act. One hand balanced on her hip, the other holding out a handy stick with a wagging finger pointed at her audience. The image would have been ridiculous, if entire worlds hadn’t now been certain they really were looking at the face of an aspect of Tria. A second later, the image was gone, back to the more chaotic general form of the one worshipped as a deity even among a corporation who thought they were deities themselves.

“Out of respect for those who rely on you, and so that we do not resort to your own method, we will not simply remove their support in this Universe. But nobody will be on your side now that they have seen you not only fail, but also anger Tria. You do have competition in this Universe, and they do have support. And when you will inevitably forget this warning, they will still be there.”

“This goes for you too, by the way. You know who you are. We know what you’re doing and we aren’t ignoring you.”

With this last message, cryptic to all but maybe two people in the entire Universe, the image faded forever from the various media it had been broadcast onto – public screens, televisions and computers, virtual environments or, on very low tech worlds, unusually vivid waking dreams. 

The Universe would not go back to normal afterwards for a very long time.


	14. In Which Welch Gets a Fresh Start

“I prefer the one I have,” commented Welch. The avatar she examined only resembled her in so much as it was female. Its hair was short, bright pink (admittedly an awesome colour) and was slicked back. She wore an outfit that sort of resembled the one Welch wore now, but with a shorter skirt, also bright pink. None of this annoyed her so much as the fact that it was an AI. True, it was the AI of a spaceship or planetary defence base or something cool like that, and it was designed not to get her into quite as much trouble, but she still preferred having a full range of sensations and not having even more problems with existential self-doubt as she currently did.

“Yours is getting tatty,” insisted Gabrie, “We can’t keep bumping you back to earlier points in your personal timeline over and over again, you’ll strain it and end up erasing yourself from existence. Your memories are already a tangled mess from all the things Tria needs you to not screw up again. Not that it stops you half the time. And we can’t keep moving you, or one of these days we’ll slip up trying to insert you smoothly into a destiny. We really need to move you to somewhere you won’t be in the front line so often, but that’s exciting enough you won’t go off and make your own trouble.”

“We’re only doing it the straightforward way now because we’re working on a whole batch anyway,” added Iselia.

This thought made Welch go slightly pale. If the two lesser Aspects were to be believed, Tria did not intervene directly with someone’s timeline unless They had already caused damage by Their actions and were repairing said damage, or in cases such as Welch’s, where a person’s existence in the Universe had practically been redone from scratch. She had been sad to find out that the main reason Gabrie and Iselia interfered so much with her destiny was that it still didn’t support itself without their constant maintenance.

“We’re going to get into a fight with those guys again,” said Gabrie, “A real fight, this time.”

“The Ten Stupid Guys, or those corporate weirdos?” asked Iselia.

“Both, probably,” replied her sister, “And we’re gonna be challenged by heroes again. I can feel it coming on.”

“If that’s the case, Welch, you need to clear out fast. Fights with those guys always get rowdy.”

“Make the tea before you leave,” said Gabrie.

Welch did as she was told, then logged out of VR. The Captain was approaching the replicator room again, and she would probably be badgered into giving up the recipe for something. She didn’t want the crew to find out what she used most of the ship computer’s resources for whenever they weren’t looking.


End file.
